


Yes

by joshlerhoe



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Its a happy one, M/M, Marriage Proposal, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:55:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshlerhoe/pseuds/joshlerhoe
Summary: Rick asks Merle for his blessing.





	Yes

**Author's Note:**

> short, sweet, and to the point, I really like this one

Merle Dixon was a force of nature, always has been, even as a young man. He was tall, broad shouldered, fists like boxing gloves, with a temper like a rabid pit bull and a fear-no-man attitude. He was somewhat of a horror story amongst the officers of the King County police department, tales of reckless shootouts and beating cops bloody while tweaking on crystal.

But now, glaring across the table at Rick with a hard set of his jaw, beer bottle grasped dangerously tight in his hand, he was nothing less than absolutely petrifying.

His eyes, cold and icy, promised murder as he stared the rookie cop into submission, something very few had ever been able to do. Rick was lauded for being the “bad cop” in interrogations, known for making grown men cry, but even he, with his wild stare and twitching lip, was no match for the man across from him.

“Y’see Rick, I dunno ‘f it’s the beers or what, but I’m thinkin’ I didn’t hear ya right the first time. You wanna repeat what you jus’ said t’ me? Jus’ so we clear.” His voice held none of its usual airy sarcasm, but heavy like concrete, down right deadly.

Rick trembled where he sat, nervously rubbing his boots together, a habit he’d had since childhood.

In his short career as a police officer, been held at gunpoint, stabbed in the thigh with a box cutter, and even had a junkie use hypodermics as darts, but none of that came close to the absolute terror of sitting within arms length of an angry Merle Dixon. He felt that fight or flight instinct very strongly within himself, but forced himself to choke it down. This was something he had to do. 

“I-I well, I’ve been thinkin’ about it for a while now, and I just think it’s the right time.” He kept his eyes trained on the tabletop, fearing eye contact may set him off or incite a rage. Never look a rabid dog in the eye or however the saying goes.

“So you wanna marry my baby brother? My sweet, all I got in this world, the kid I would kill for, baby brother?” It was clearly a rhetorical question. Rick didn’t look up as he nodded, but he could feel the heat of Merle’s glare boring into him.

“The hell make you think yer good ‘nuff fer him?” Merle sounded genuinely confused, licking his sharp teeth in anticipation for whatever answer Rick managed to scrape up, but began speaking again before Rick could respond, something he did often.

“Y’know, the first time he brought you home, I took one look at ya and could not fer the life a me figure out why. Why you of all people? And it wasn’t cuz I thought you was ugly or nothin’ like that, but cuz you ain’t his type in the slightest, ain’t like none a’ the others.” Rick could feel whatever confidence he’d manage to scrounge up before entering the bar being crushed under Merle’s critical heel, grounding down into the dingey carpet.

He didn’t speak for a moment, and neither did Rick, knowing Merle wasn’t close to finished insulting him. The other man sighed and sat back in his chair and nursed a bottle of Budweiser, shaking his head, peering somewhere off to the side. 

“Daryl’s never had much taste in men,” he started, picking absently as the label of his bottle, voice now fairly neutral, if not a bit solemn. His eyes closed for a moment and he breathed in and out deeply, like whatever he was thinking about cause him pain.

“He had this one guy few years back, met ‘im at some bar somewhere. I guess the guy worked security or somethin’, was older than him, right ‘bout my age. Took one look at ‘im and knew he was trouble. Could jus’ see it in the way he stood, way he talked, everythin’ the guy did. Tried tellin’ Daryl but you know him, always thinkin’ he knows best, tol’ me he was old ‘nuff to make his own choices an’ I gotta get over it, he was grown now.” Merle shook his head and smirked a bit, taking a sip from his bottle, licking his lip as he continued.

“Got a call one night, maybe ‘bout three. I hadn’t seen him in a while, that prick never let him go nowhere alone, but soon as my phone rang, I knew it was him, just had that gut feelin’. He uh, was callin’ me from a bar in town, cryin’ and beggin’ me t’ come get him. So I get there and I swear on my mama’s grave I never seen a more sorry sight,” he recalls, eyes mournful and distant.

“Beat ta hell. Bloody. New and old bruises, shakin’ like a leaf, an’ he jus’ hugged me. Wouldn’t let me go. Finally got him inta the bathroom to see more and… Well, I took him ta my place and put him ta bed. When he was sleepin’ I went an’ got him some Dixon justice. An’ y’know what the lil’ fucker did when he woke up? He yelled at me for gettin’ even! Dumbass was gonna go back to him.”

Rick never knew of Daryl’s dating history, never thought it was his business to ask, but if that’s what the others are like, he’s glad he’s not like any of them.

“I blame myself, really. Maybe if I hadn’t been up his ass all the time, he wouldn’ta gone an’ got with the first guy that told him nice things. Maybe he did it outta spite? Got with someone he knew was bad news jus’ t’ make me worry? I dunno, but I don’t blame him. Not one bit. Nothin’ that boy ever done in his life to deserve what that guy done to him. And I promise you, mark my words, that guy wasn’t the last.” Merle stopped speaking, but Rick could still see the turmoil on the man’s face, the pain he was feeling underneath his exterior. He didn’t know Merle could feel anything other then smug superiority, but if the proof wasn’t right there in front of him.

“I would never put a hand on him. Ever. I’d rather die,” Rick proclaimed, meeting Merle’s eye for the first time that night. 

It was something not many got to see coming from the elder Dixon: compassion. Sympathy for his brother’s suffering and doing what he can to protect who he loves, even if it meant Daryl would resent him for it. It was rather noble.

Merle was a meddling, royal pain in Rick’s ass, but it’s better that he is than isn’t.

“I know that. Yer so head over heels fer him, it’s almost pathetic. But jus’ cuz you don’t knock him around don’t mean yer good ‘nuff for him. That’s settin’ the bar pretty low, dontcha think?” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Look,” Rick started, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “I know he could do better. He’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met, sometimes I can’t even wrap my head around how great he is. But for some ungodly reason, he thinks I’m good enough. And there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with him. I got a good job and I make good money-,” he was abruptly interrupted by Merle’s objective tone.

“Nah, you work a dangerous job that’ll leave him a widow.” Rick sputtered.

“Well, it’s statistically unlikely that anything life ending will happen to me, I mean, my job is safer than being a cab driver! Honestly, you’re the most dangerous thing about King County” He could see Merle was unimpressed, mostly with that last statement, so he pushed on.

“I make good money, I can support us both so he can be a writer, he doesn’t have to work at that stupid gas station anymore, I know he hates it there, and my parents already love him more than they love me. I-I…” Rick trailed off, Merle looking unconvinced by any of his arguments, leading back in his rickety chair, arms crossed over his chest. Rick sighed, shoulders dropping.

“I love him.”

That was all he really had left. He could tell Merle all about how much money he makes, how safe Daryl would be, how he’d never want for anything, he could talk until he was blue in the face but it wouldn’t make any bit of difference. Nobody would ever be enough for his brother.

Merle’s eyes met him, just as cold and critical as they had been in the beginning, boring into him once again. He said nothing, but did set his beer down, leaning his body forward, resting his elbows on the tabletop and lit up a cigarette, his first of the night.

He inhaled deep and blew out, tapping his thumb to the filter, a strange habit of his, though Rick didn’t know what it meant.

The silence drew out for half of his cigarette, occasionally taking a drag and ashing on the floor, but his eyes never left Rick. Finally, after an excruciating cigarette and striking up a new one, Merle spoke.

“You already bought the ring, didn’tcha?” Rick, bit his lip and nodded, rubbing his boots together.

Merle made a ‘give it here’ motion with two fingers, ashing again. Rick patted his pockets, digging in and pulling out a white velvet box, gold button clasp in the front, setting it on the tabletop and sliding it across.

Merle watched him do it like he was offering a dead fish, lip curled and brows drawn. He reached out and picked it up, twisting it around in his fingers.

“You really went all out, huh?” Rick blushed, knocking a heel against the wooden leg of his chair.

Merle smirked, satisfied in embarrassing him.

He pressed the gold button, velvet lid popping open, revealing the ring.

It was fairly simple, sterling silver with a hammered surface, nothing flashy but not plain or thoughtless either. He took it out from between the cushions, running a thumb over the rough texture, index finger touching over an inscription on the inside, words carved in print.

“Love me forever.” Merle smiled and shook his head, stubbing his cigarette out on the table.

“It’s a Motorhead song,” Rick supplied, earning a cutting stare.

“Boy, don’tchu think I know Motorhead?” Rick shut his mouth and sat there, awaiting his judgement.

He was silent again, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, twisting the ring back and forth.

Rick couldn’t move, he could hardly breathe, sitting there waiting for either a yes or a no. Either he would be able to spend the rest of his life with the man he loved until they both grew old, or he would not, and by the look on Merles face, it could go either way.

He went light headed.

Merle cracked a smile, put the ring back into the white velvet box, and returned it to Rick, who held it unsteady in hold. His throat was dry as he spoke.

“So?” 

Merle emptied his bottle, leaned back, and pulled at the collar of his greasy shirt. He smirked again.

“You ain’t never gonna be good ‘nuff for my baby brother, you ain’t worth the look in yer direction he ever gave you, but goddamn if you ain’t the best one he ever brought home.” He paused again and Rick rubbed his boots.

“Hell, I guess, ya already bought the fuckin’ ring,”

Rick could hardly believe his ears, muscles spasming, nearly falling from his chair. Merle got a kick outta that.

“Seriously? Y-you give me permission to marry Daryl?!” Merle visibly winced.

“Don’t say it out loud,” he demanded, rolling his eyes. Rick nodded, trembling in his seat.

“Thank you, Merle, thank you so much! I swear, I won’t disappoint you, I’ll take care of him and I’ll treat him good, I swear to you.” Merle nodded and waved a hand, silencing Rick, practically vibrating where he sat.

“Yeah, whatever. When ya gonna pop the question?” He implored.

“I was thinking this weekend I’d take him down to the fair, figure it out there, whenever it feels right I guess.” Merle hummed.

“Okay, but I wanna be there. I only got one brother, wanna see him say yes...or no,” he teased, Rick pursing his lips like he always did when annoyed.

“He won’t say no.”

 

And he didn’t.

Merle watched from afar, Rick dropped down to one knee, right in front of the cotton candy stand, and pulled that white box from his jacket pocket. He could see but couldn’t hear Rick ask ‘Daryl, will you marry me?’ 

Daryl was stunned, he could see even from the distance, and then he cried, and then he nodded. Rick smiled, bigger then he ever had before, and scooped his little brother up in his arms and swung him around, kissing him and loving him. And he watched as Rick slid that silver ring onto his brother’s finger.

Merle smiled as he met Daryl’s elated eyes, and took a sip from his beer bottle.

And maybe even shed a tear.


End file.
